


glorious, beautiful, spoiled (and still : a brat)

by ensembledesétoiles (Tsundeyama)



Series: kinktober 2020 (but probs not all 31 days) [7]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bratting, Coach Victor Nikiforov, Coach/Player Relationship, Corporal Punishment, F/M, Figure Skater Reader, Kinktober 2020, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Punishment, Sexual Frustration, Spanking, Teacher-Student Relationship, Teasing, reader is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:55:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26881051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsundeyama/pseuds/ensembledes%C3%A9toiles
Summary: you’ve been a bad girl. really, you have been, so when your very handsome, very pissed ice-skating coach had talked about punishment, you had figured you more than deserved it. (and refrained from smirking, kinky.)
Relationships: Victor Nikiforov/Reader
Series: kinktober 2020 (but probs not all 31 days) [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947388
Kudos: 29





	glorious, beautiful, spoiled (and still : a brat)

**Author's Note:**

> what day of kinktober is this ? probably the seventh, i lost count, i forgot to post i want to sleep.  
> this is like... super poorly written but i'm TIRED and i have no excuse for this. except that it has been in my drafts for way too long and i needed to get rid of it somewhere so here it is, have it because i don't want it anymore. 
> 
> (spanking entry, lists of prompts @lotsoffandomimagines on tumblr)

you’ve been a bad girl. really, you have been, so when your very handsome, very pissed ice-skating coach had talked about _punishment_ , you had figured you more than deserved it. (and refrained from smirking, _kinky_.)

you also had figured, maybe naively so, that he would simply add a thousand push-ups to your training regimen, or force a hundred runs up and down the two flight of stairs of the ice skating rink — making you exhausted before even slipping on your blades, because you were pretty sure that there was a clause in you contract that forbid him from lifting a hand on you, or hurting you in any way.

but still he had ushered you to the skating rink (still in your casual clothes, what got you frowning), and ordered you to take of your clothes.

fortunately, the space is empty, so it savesyou from the possibility of someone over hearing you. or witnessing the cold, uneasy fingers coming to unbutton theknitted sweater you’re wearing over your dress.

you’re not self-conscious, and you know that your body is _beautiful_. you are an athlete after all, you are trained and follow all sorts of diets to stay in top form. the way victor looks at you though, still so obviously pissed, is starting to scare you.

in a swoosh of fabric, your clothes fall at your feet and you step out of them, arms raising to hug yourself as you stand in baby blue lace and taupe high-heeled sandals, _cold._

he barely spares you a glance, neither appreciative or judgmental before tapping his fingers on the wooden railing and ordering you to _bend over._

you can’t help the smirk this time. doesn’t he know the tease you can be sometimes ? even more when you tend to use flirting and/or humor as a coping mechanism ?

you walk up to him, leaning back on the railing and wincing at the cold wood against your skin. you grab him by the jacket, and pull him to you.

« what ? are you going to spank me, sir ? i could think of better ways to make it up to you. » he stifles a laugh. you never call him _sir_.

« were you always this much of a brat ? »

you chuckle, a light sound that makes him frown. his fingers tap against the wood and you playfully roll your eyes up before obeying him and bending over, arms crossed and face nuzzled between. your back is straight, your body forming a perfect 90° angle as you are used to stretches in this position, to the complicated figures that require impossible precision.

you turn your head to look at your coach, who is observing your form out of habits (it isn’t the point).

« i’m not going to cower and apologize. i’ve been spanked before, you know ? so i guess that’s a _yes_ to your question, i have always been bratty. »

« maybe you should ? you’re clearly in the wrong here. »

the proof is in your current situation. victor is a very nice person. a very nice coach, too. which is maybe why you kept pushing him until he snapped : running late, canceling meetings, talking back, playfully _flirting_.

you would apologize for most of it, but not for the flirting. victor is hot, despite being a few years older than you, and you meant everything you’ve ever done or said.

« i won’t. add a few more spanks and get it over with. »

you look back in front of you, signaling the end of the conversation. victor does his best to refrain from sighing. you’re putting his patience to the test.

« fine. »

he steps closer. you take a deep calming breath and ready yourself for whatever pain is to come.

you were a capricious child, and you have been spanked on occasions but as you grew up, your temper got better (with your parents at least) and so you haven’t been punished more than simply lectured in a very long time.

still, you seem to be quite good with pain as victor’s hand hitting down on your behind doesn’t hurt as much as you would have expected ; the surprise of the impact making you jump and squeal nonetheless.

the second time around, though, your lips are tightly shut together and your muscles are ready for the slap. you won’t flinch anymore.

by the fifth one, you begin to think that being spanked is not so much of a punition at all.

as the spanking goes on, you seem to be oblivious to the sound you’re making, but victor definitely notices. your pressed lips do a lot to silence your moans ( _they are because of the pain, not because you like it,_ or so you tell yourself) but nothing for the soft whimpers you make every time his hands connect with your skin.

if it wasn’t painful at first, it was now _uncomfortable_ , the repeated assault making you quite sore. you’re not sure you’ll be able to sit, or even perform after that. (does victor even plan on make you practice after he’s done ?)

« wouldn’t you happen to _like_ it a little bit too much ? »

« excuse me ? »

you sound outraged, and rightfully so. how could anyone be enjoying such a shameful, degrading situation ? not you. not when you are so proud.

« what even makes you believe that having my ass beaten so roughly might be likable ? »

there’s silence for a few seconds, and you’re tempted to leave your bending position to stretch (keeping your back straight like that was a strain you wouldn’t be able to endure much longer) but before you can do so, victor hand settles on your butt-cheek.

one finger plays with the lace (barely) covering your private parts and you feel the thin fabric rub between your legs. you don’t need to have him point out the evidence to know that you are wet.

« you’ve stained your underwear. »

as much as you want to deny, you are now very much aware of the wetness between your legs. this is certainly a hundred times more embarrassing that getting spanked.

you stay silent, hoping that your punishment has lasted long enough and that your coach will let you go now. he doesn’t. instead, two of his fingers rub against your arousal.

you squirm under his touch, not knowing if you are trying to get away from him or the opposite. you can’t suppress the whine that escapes your lips, a pleading sound that only makes victor want to tease you further.

so that’s what he does. he skillfully draws out a few moans before telling you to turn around and face him. you obey, despite the blush on your cheek. victor smiles. this is what he wanted to see.

his hand sneaks between your legs and you _jump_ away, bumping into the railing you were previously bent over. you take hold of his arm for stability.

he pulls your underwear aside so his fingers can reach your womanhood directly. his thumb finds your clit and rubs circles over the bundle of nerves while his other fingers continue teasing your entrance.

victor doesn’t need to penetrate you to render you a whimpering mess, now pressed against him : your arms wrapped around his neck and your face hidden against his strong chest.

in minutes, you’re shaking, close and at the same time frustrated by victor’s teasing. at last, one of his digits pushes inside you, only slightly but still enough to make you sigh.

« oh, yes, please. » you hate yourself for begging but you don’t think straight right now. « please. »

victor moves his finger, and chuckles. you make a mental note to punch him later.

« needy now ? do you want me that badly ? »

« oh, i assure you, you have no idea how badly i actually want you. »

it’s probably not a good idea to say that, but at this point you don’t think you could fool your coach in thinking that you don’t have an interest in him, not with his hands between your legs like this.

« are you close ? i’ve barely touched you yet. »

« well, i don’t think i’ll be able to last for much longer anyway, you’ll have to excuse me. » and if anything, it’s his fault for being that good with only his fingers. « come on, i need you. »

you plead for release with you sweetest voice, looking at him with the puppy eyes that usually get you what you want. victor’s free hand comes to cup your cheek and you lean in the touch, smiling.

« and i need you on the ice in exactly three minutes. »

« excuse me ? »

his hands leave you altogether as he steps back and admire your disheveled, flushed state.

« oh, kitten, this is punishment. you don’t get to cum. » he smiles and you really want to punch him. « now go get changed, i don’t like to be kept waiting. »

you humph in frustration and anger, picking up your discarded clothes from the floor.

_bastard._


End file.
